Little Moments
by Stixer111
Summary: Arthur appreciates the little things the most


_**A/N- It's been a while since I wrote some Merthur, and I was missing the boys. Also, I've been super stressed lately, and this is my coping mechanism.**_

**Little Moments**

Arthur leaned back in his chair groaned, as he removed his wire rimmed reading glasses, placing them carefully in his shirt pocket, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He chanced a glance at his watch and sighed. It was almost nine o'clock at night, and he'd missed dinner again. This would be the third night this week. He stretched, wincing as he heard several distinct pops. The muscles near his shoulders were stiff from endless hours sitting at his desk. He reaches inside the top drawer of his desk, pulls out protein bar, and slowly unwraps it. He makes a mental note to buy some more, he's starting to run a little low. Contrary to popular opinion, being the son of the company head, heir to Pendragon Enterprises, was neither fun nor easy. He was the only one left in the office, everyone else had the good sense to leave at a reasonable time. He'd sent his secretary off with them. She was a hard worker, and he would have liked the company, but she put in far too much time at the office already. He realizes that there's some sort of irony or hypocrisy in that, but he'd rather not think about it. Besides, she had a family to get home to. Arthur allowed himself a small grin, the same could be said of him these days. Well, maybe not a family, or at least not what most people would call a family, but there was definitely someone waiting for him at home. With that pleasant thought held firmly in his mind, he pushed himself out of the swivel chair that, despite being supposedly ergonomic, did quite a number on his back, packed up his laptop, threw the protein bar wrapper into the dustbin and strode out the door of his office.

The drive home was uneventful, thank god. Arthur was far too tired to deal with anything more strenuous than mild traffic. He hummed softly to himself as he punched the floor number on the lift, a nonsensical tune that had been in his head the entire day. He was still humming as he opened the front door and was greeted by Kilgharrah, their crotchety old cat, batting impatiently at his leg. He leaned down to rub behind his ears, and got a disdainful look and a nip on his fingers for his efforts. There were days when he felt that the feline only tolerated him because Merlin liked him. He heard a badly suppressed snort that was undoubtedly from the man in question, and resisted the urge to grin as he looked up. That would be giving in far too easily.

Merlin, _his_ Merlin, sat on their hideous maroon sofa, wearing grey track pants and the stupid oversized blue hoodie with fraying at the sleeves that he'd had for longer than Arthur had known him, with his feet tucked under him and his kindle in his hands. His dark hair was wet, and curled slightly around those ridiculous ears of his. A small mound of white fur peeked out from his hood, which lay spread out on top of the sofa's backrest, suggesting that Aithusa had claimed her favorite napping spot. He caught Arthur's eye and beamed at him, his thousand-watt smile making his eyes crinkle in the corners. That smile always took Arthur's breath away, especially when it was directed at him. He grinned back as he toed off his shoes and loosened his tie. He hesitated a bit, before removing his socks as well. It was his house, and he could walk around barefoot if he wanted to. Merlin watched him speculatively.

"How was work?"

"Never ending. And also tedious." Long and boring pretty much summed up his entire week. Merlin snorted.

"Did you eat something?"

"Yeah."

The other man raised an eyebrow skeptically "Protein bars don't count as food clotpole. Go on, I left something in the oven" Apparently, Merlin knew him too well.

Arthur pouted, but was mostly for show. Now that he thinks about it, he's ravenous. He made his way to the kitchen. Merlin had saved him some of dinner, chicken and potatoes, and he scarfs it down in a _very_ undignified manner. His father would have thrown fit if he could have seen him.

"Slow down or you'll choke to death. I prefer my boyfriend alive!" came a yell from the front room

"Shu'p" he managed to call back around a mouthful of potatoes. Oh yeah, Merlin knew him far too well.

He finished his dinner, washed the plate and left it to dry before making his way back to Merlin, who was now sitting with his feet resting on the coffee table. His father would have thrown a fit about that too. He flopped down next to his boyfriend, reaching behind him to scoop Aithusa from her little nest. She blinked at him sleepily, before giving a tiny, satisfied sounding mewl, and curling into the crook of his arm. Arthur was still somewhat surprised by how tiny kittens were. It was his private opinion that Aithusa was a much finer creature than Kilgharrah. She seemed to like Arthur at any rate, and that was a point in her favor. Merlin refused to play favorites. Arthur cut a quick glance in his direction and smiled as he watched the man mouth the words of his story as he read them. He nudged him gently, careful not to jostle the sleeping kitten on his arm. When got no response, he nudged him again, harder. Kilgharrah, who had moved to sit next to Merlin on the arm of the sofa, looked at him disapprovingly, but Merlin just huffed quietly, and wound an arm around Arthur's shoulders, carefully maneuvering him until his head is resting on his lap. His eyes never leave the kindle, but there was a smirk tugging at his lips, Arthur could see it. A contented sigh passed through his lips as Merlin began to gently card his fingers through his hair. The gesture is almost absent minded, as Merlin continued to read, and Arthur found his eyes beginning to close, as the tension bled out of shoulders and back. He felt boneless, like he could melt right into the sofa. Aithusa seemed to feel the same as she purred softly and leaned into his chest.

"Merlin?" he mumbled sleepily

The man made a small noise, letting Arthur know he's heard him.

"Read to me?" he asked quietly. If it were anyone else, he'd be embarrassed. But it isn't anyone else, it's Merlin, and if there was anyone he can be vulnerable around, it's him.

He could hear the smile in his boyfriend's voice as he begins to read. It was the middle of the chapter, hell, the middle of the sentence, but Merlin knew that it was not the story that Arthur wanted to hear.

There are days when Arthur questions if it's worth it, the long the hours, the muscle pain, the missed meals, and the overwhelming urge to impress his father that he's never quite been able to outgrow. There are times when he just wanted to quit, leave everything behind and start a new life, maybe out in the country somewhere, and let his witch of a sister take over for him. But then there are moments like this, when he's pressed so close to Merlin that he can feel him breathe and smell the earthy scent of his soap, as nimble fingers passed softly through his hair. Moments when the only things he could hear were the cats purring and Merlin's voice, so soft and soothing that he could forget the clacking of his keyboard and the dull drone of Mr. So-and-so's board meeting presentation that permeated his day. He smiled, even as he felt himself drift toward a peaceful sleep. He wouldn't trade this for the world.

_**A/N- I thought I'd try something more description oriented than dialogue, which I think is a first for me as far as this pairing is concerned, especially since so much of their chemistry comes from the way they banter and just talk to each other. It was a little tricky to let their actions and descriptions do the talking for them. I'm also pretty sure this is the first time I've seriously tried to write from Arthur's point of view since I tend to gravitate more towards Merlin and his personality. Let me know how I did!**_


End file.
